


Don't It Always Seem To Go

by torakowalski



Category: Blood-Smoke Series - Tanya Huff, Smoke Series - Tanya Huff
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 12:55:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5497760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torakowalski/pseuds/torakowalski
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Tony was four hours late.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Not that Lee was worried.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Lee definitely wasn’t worried.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't It Always Seem To Go

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cero_ate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cero_ate/gifts).



> Happy Yuletide, cero_ate! I hope you have a great day :D

Lee Nicholas had never really minded being stood up before. Truth be told, it had been a long time since he’d dated anyone he really _wanted_ to see. But he did want to see Tony - every chance he could get - and Tony was four hours late.

Not that Lee was worried.

Lee definitely wasn’t worried.

Lee checked his phone for the tenth time in the last five minutes then waved it around a little, just in case there was a problem with the reception.

Still no message came through. 

“Ugh, fuck, Tony,” Lee muttered, dropping down onto the sofa and banging his head back against the cushions. As far as he knew, there were no supernatural shenanigans happening that might be holding Tony up. Not that Tony always told him about those, but that was a complaint for a different time.

Once again, Lee scrolled through his contacts list down to _Fitzroy, Henry_. He really didn’t want to call Henry. For a start, Tony would be mad at him, if he did, not to mention that if anyone was going to rescue Tony, Lee would really rather it was him, not Henry.

But that was selfish and stupid. He hit call.

“Lee?” Henry asked, answering the phone with a slow, questioning pronouncement of Lee’s name.

“Okay, this is probably just an overreaction, but have you heard from Tony, lately?” Lee asked. He rubbed at his face with his free hand. There was a headache over his left eye.

“Lately?” Henry asked. “I heard from him yesterday.” 

Of course he had. Lee had decided weeks ago that he was not going to be jealous of Henry, no matter how tempting it was. It wasn’t as though Henry was ever going away, so Lee was just going to have to learn to live with him.

“Not today?” Lee asked. “Not even a text?”

Henry’s voice turned sharper. “What’s going on? Is something wrong?” 

Lee rubbed his forehead again. “Hopefully not. I’m not sure. Could you meet me at Tony’s place? You’ve… you’ve got keys, right?”

“You don’t?” Henry asked. It was a perfectly blank and pleasant question, but Lee still felt it like a slap.

“Just meet me there,” Lee said and ended the call.

***

It was a miserably rainy evening, and Lee should probably have taken more care than he did on the ride between his apartment and Tony’s.

He skidded his bike up onto the sidewalk and parked it semi-legally before jumping off and striding up to Henry, who was waiting in the dark doorway.

“If you’re trying to look spooky, you’re succeeding,” Lee said, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Henry raised a red-gold eyebrow and waited until Lee sighed. It shouldn’t be possible for a man half a foot shorter than him, who looked twenty at best, to make Lee feel as though he was being scolded by his grandmother, but he could and Lee did.

“Sorry,” Lee sighed. “Sorry, I’m just a little worried, you know?”

“Tony can take care of himself,” Henry said. He caught Lee’s eye and smiled slightly. “At least, that is what he has told me repeatedly.”

Lee smiled back then waited while Henry pulled out a set of keys and let them first into the building and then into Tony’s apartment. He didn’t say another word about Lee not having his own set of keys, which Lee was grateful for.

Tony’s apartment was empty. No Tony, no demons, not even the cat who sometimes wandered in and out, regardless of whether the door and windows were open or shut.

It was also incredibly tidy.

“This isn’t right,” Lee said, looking around. The futon had been folded up, Tony’s comforter and pillows stacked neatly on one end. The floor was clear of the usual plates and beer bottles and dirty clothes. The dying plants that had been on Tony’s windowsill for as long as Lee had been coming here were gone.

Henry cocked his head to one side. “Did Tony, by any chance, hire a cleaning service?”

Lee couldn’t help laughing, a burst of amusement breaking through his worry. “ _Tony_?”

“Yes, fair point,” Henry agreed, nodding. “He has been working on a clean cantrip for a while; maybe he was finally successful.”

“Maybe,” Lee said dubiously. He was fairly certain that if a miracle like that had happened, Tony would have told everyone immediately.

“Stay here,” Henry said and started to sweep around the apartment. Lee watched him. He wanted to chafe at being told to _stay_ like a pet dog, but he also found that he _had_ stayed, without thinking about it. Henry had that kind of way about him.

Lee had no idea what Henry was looking for, but Henry seemed to know. It was like he was seeing things that Lee couldn’t, which was annoying when Tony did it, but exasperating when it was Henry.

(Henry, who was definitely supernatural, but no one would tell Lee in what way. Something else that was exasperating.)

“Lee, come here,” Henry said, and Lee found himself across the room without thinking about it.

“Stop doing that,” he said, folding his arms. “I would have come, if you’d just asked.”

“Doing what?” Henry asked, frowning. Either he was genuinely confused or a very good actor.

Now that Lee thought about it, he wasn’t sure what Henry had done. He just knew that Henry could put a tone into his voice that made Lee do what he said, whether he wanted to or not. “I’m not sure,” he admitted. “But you did something.”

Henry looked at him assessingly. Then he nodded. “I did,” he agreed. “I apologise.” He held up a wrinkled mass of black fabric. “This is yours?”

It was, Lee realised after squinting at it. It was an old shirt that he’d spilled bleach on a while ago; Tony had stolen it out of his closet one morning when he needed something clean to wear home.

“Yes?” he asked. He was determined not to blush. He wasn’t doing anything with Tony that Henry hadn’t also done. Well, he hoped he was doing it better and building a stronger foundation so that maybe they’d last, where Tony and Henry hadn’t but… The point was that he refused to be embarrassed.

“It was stuffed under Tony's mattress,” Henry said. “It’s the only thing out of place in this whole apartment.”

Lee took the shirt and held it between his hands, rubbing a thumb back and forth across the sleeve. “So?” he asked.

Henry shook his head. “I’m not sure yet, but it has to mean something.”

It meant that Tony was still missing and their only clue didn’t seem like much of a clue, at all. Lee really didn’t like letting on that he cared about things to near-strangers, but this was _Tony_. 

He scratched the back of his neck. “It’s not just me who has a bad feeling about all this, right?”

Henry looked at him for a minute then, “No,” he said quietly. “It’s not just you.”

Oddly that made Lee feel a little better, while also leaving him feeling terrified. “What do we do?”

“I’m going to contact some friends,” Henry said, “and you, well, could you get in touch with some of Tony’s friends to see if he’s contacted them? Particularly Leah.”

Lee bit down on the need to say that Tony wouldn’t have called Leah, if he couldn’t call Lee. That definitely wasn’t true. Lee was the last person Tony would call, if there was any risk of danger. “You’ll let me know what you find, right?” he asked.

“Of course,” Henry said. Lee was fairly sure he believed him.

***

By two a.m. Lee’s living room was filled with people who he knew, but should probably have known better: Amy was stretched out on the floor, trying stubbornly to hack into Tony’s laptop, Leah was curled up on the sofa, ostensibly napping, Zev was leafing through a pile of books, and Jack was in the kitchen, making coffee.

Lee didn’t really know where to put himself. He felt incredibly useless. Research wasn’t his thing. He was good at doing what he was told, but pretty terrible at everything else that Tony’s friends seemed to be naturally great at.

“Stop moping,” Leah said, without opening her eyes.

“Who?” Lee asks. “Me?”

Leah made a dismissive snorting noise. “We’ll get your little wizard back, no need to panic. And if we don’t, well, there are plenty others.”

Lee was usually good at hiding how he felt from people. He blamed the fact that it was very late at night for the fact he made a soft, hurt noise, just at the thought of replacing Tony with someone else.

Zev looked up from his book. He looked from Lee to Leah and back again. “Leah, be quiet,” he said.

“You weren’t listening,” Leah said, smiling at him slowly. “You don’t even know what I said.”

“I know that Lee looks sad, so be quiet,” Zev said, still in his gentle, quiet way. He slid down off the sofa and scooted across the carpet to Lee and handed him a book. “Here. These were on the bookshelf but Tony was definitely reading them the other day. I’m trying to work out if anything in here seems familiar.”

It was a very, very slim chance, but Lee still grabbed for it - and the book - gratefully. “Thank you,” he said.

Zev leaned against his side. “Tony would have my balls, if I let you worry,’’ he said. He paused and winked at Lee. “Not in the fun way.”

Lee laughed too. Of everyone, Lee had felt most awkward around Zev, ever since he and Tony had got together. Now he felt guilty about that, since he _knew_ Zev was a nice guy. “Thanks,” he said again.

“Don’t mention it,” Zev said, and patted him on the leg.

***

Tony still wasn’t back by the time they all had to go to work the next morning. Lee hadn’t slept, but at least he was busy on set, which should have kept him reasonably distracted.

“Where’s Tony?” Peter asked, while they were still setting up the scene. Lee should probably be in his dressing room, but he didn’t particularly want to be alone, at the moment. It just gave him time to worry.

Lee automatically started to answer, but Peter didn’t know about them, so of course he hadn’t been asking Lee.

“Amy said he called in sick,” Adam said, without looking up from the chair he was dragging across the room. 

“Fuck,” Peter muttered, but that was that. No one questioned it. Lee had been kind of hoping they might want to talk about it. Tony was the only thing Lee could think of to talk about.

“Something on your mind?” Mason asked, appearing at Lee’s elbow. The fact that he’d managed to sneak up on Lee was pretty alarming; Mason was not exactly inconspicuous, so Lee must have been really distracted.

“Um,” Lee said, “no?”

“Good, good.” Mason patted him hard on the shoulder. “Don’t want you distracted during our scenes.”

Lee found a smile from somewhere. Mason always managed to make him feel better when things were shitty and Lee was never sure if he meant to.

***

Somehow, Lee got through the day. His scenes weren’t great, but they weren’t bad enough for Peter to call him on it.

Like always, there was no signal on the sound stage, so Amy had been looking after Lee’s phone. He trusted her to flag him down if Tony called or texted, but he knew he had still driven her mad double checking.

“Still nothing,” Amy said, as soon as they broke for the day. She handed over Lee’s phone without him needing to ask for it and he checked the message and call log anyway. Amy rolled her eyes.

“Aren’t you worried?” he asked. She was probably Tony’s best friend. He couldn’t be the only one going out of his mind.

Amy huffed. “Of course I’m worried, but I’m.” She groaned and pulled Lee close, hand tight on the shoulder of his shirt so had to bend to her height and she could whisper in his ear. “I have hope, okay? Don’t you dare tell anyone I’m being hopeful.”

“I won’t,” Lee promised, because she seemed deathly serious about that. “Well, I might tell Tony. When we find him.”

Amy gave him an approving look when he said _when_ not _if_ but she still scoffed. “Please, you’ll be too busy boning him.”

“Mr Nicholas,” boomed CB’s voice from his office doorway and they both jumped. “A word.”

“Of course, sir,” Lee said, pasting on his most professional smile.

“It’s about Mr Foster’s disappearance,” CB said, looking at Lee then Amy meaningfully.

“Uh, sir, no, Tony called in sick,” Amy lied. Lee nodded. He didn’t think that CB would fire Tony for disappearing, but it was probably safest to make sure. CB _did_ hate to waste money.

CB just looked at her until even feisty Amy wilted a little. “I know full well what the situation is with Mr Foster,” CB said. “Mr Fitzroy has kept me abreast of developments - ”

_I bet he has_ , Lee thought.

“ - and I believe the reinforcements have already arrived.” For some reason, he glanced out of the window, where the watery winter sun had just disappeared under the horizon. CB nodded to himself. “You will keep me informed of developments, I trust.”

“Reinforcements?” Lee and Amy asked at the same time, which at least made Lee feel better that he wasn’t the only one confused.

“Ah,” said CB. He didn’t exactly look uncomfortable - because when did he? - but he managed to look slightly sorry that he’d said anything. “Perhaps you should speak to Mr Fitzroy.”

“What reinforcements?” Lee asked again. “Please. Sir. It’s _Tony_.”

CB sighed as though Lee having feelings was incredibly troublesome. “Some friends of Mr Fitzroy and Mr Foster’s from Toronto, I believe.”

For a moment, Lee was so thrown he couldn’t speak. Then he turned and walked out of the room. His bike was waiting where he’d left it in the parking lot. His helmet was still in the office, but screw it. He’d take the risk this once, he wasn’t going back. He had Henry Fitzroy to shout at.

***

Lee had no idea where Henry lived, which was probably for the best, so he headed to Tony’s apartment, instead.

He still didn’t have a key, but it was amazing what you could do, if you were young, attractive, and smiled pleasantly at old people.

He willingly carried an elderly lady’s shopping to her door, then carried on up the stairs, heading for Tony’s floor. He could hear raised voices when he was still a floor below. He sped up.

Tony’s door stood open and Lee had one moment of sharp, painful hope, before he pushed through it and saw who was - or rather, who wasn’t - inside.

Henry stood in the middle of the apartment, staring down an incredibly attractive lady in a long leather coat. Next to her, eyes narrowed in Henry’s direction, was a man, whose posture and bearing just screamed _cop_.

“Henry?” Lee called, striding into the room.

All three of them turned toward him. Lee very, very much wanted to falter, because wow, that was a _lot_ of laser-sharp attention to be the focus of.

“Who’s this?” the probable cop asked, stepping forward.

The woman smiled. Her smile was sharp and intense. “This is Lee,” she said. She caught Lee’s eye, making Lee feel as though they were sharing a joke. “Isn’t that right?”

Caught off guard, Lee said, “Um,” before he recovered. He held out his hand. “Yes. Lee Nicholas, ma’am.”

She took his hand and shook it firmly. “Vicki Nelson. This is Mike Cellucci.” 

“Fuck,” Lee said, eyes widening. “I mean.”

Vicki Nelson - Tony’s Victory, Tony’s _hero_ \- laughed. “I see you’ve heard of us.” She looked at Henry. “You didn’t tell Lee we were coming?”

“I wasn’t sure you were, until you arrived,” Henry said. He was looking at the place where Lee’s hand was still clasped with Vicki’s almost as if he wanted to pull them apart. Instinctively, Lee let go. 

“Good to meet you,” Mike Cellucci said, gruffly, “but we’ve got work to do.”

“What are you doing?” Lee asked. They’d taken down some of Tony’s posters, moved some of the books off his lopsided shelves.

“Looking for clues,” said Vicki. She patted Lee on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, kid, Mike and I are professionals.”

“Can I help?” Lee asked. He meant _I need to help; let me help_ , but Vicki shook her head.

“Could be dangerous,” she said. “Let us do it. We’ll bring Tony home to you, don’t worry.”

Lee clenched his hands into fists. He wanted to argue, but the way she was looking at him made that impossible. What the fuck could he offer, really? Henry was… whatever he was, Vicki was a PI and Mike was a cop. Lee was an actor, nothing more.

“Fine, all right,” Lee said. He turned away. Then stopped, “You will bring him home?”

It was Henry who answered. “We will.”

***

Days passed.

Lee barely slept. He dragged himself to work and home again, and lay awake most nights, staring at his phone, willing someone, anyone to give him some good news.

In the middle of another endless night, Lee rolled over on the bed and pressed his face into the shirt Henry had found in Tony’s apartment.

It was Lee’s shirt, it shouldn’t have felt comforting, but it did. It smelt faintly of Tony, and that was more than Lee had from anywhere else.

He sighed and stuck his nose into the collar. No one could see, no one would judge him, and even if they did, he didn’t care.

Something sharp pricked him on the cheek. Frowning, Lee tried to brush it away. He was busy wallowing; he couldn’t be interrupted by things prickling him.

It kept pricking him. 

After some scrambling around, he found piece of card, small and rectangularly shaped. Rolling onto his back, Lee lifted it up toward the light and squinted at it. 

It was a card for a restaurant Lee had taken Tony to on their one month anniversary. They’d snuck in the back way, so the press wouldn’t notice, which Lee had felt guilty about, but Tony hadn’t seemed to care.

He’d grabbed a card from a little stack by the door on the way out, teasingly saying something about how Lee could take him there for every anniversary, before he’d blushed and stumbled to a halt.

“Every anniversary,” Lee had agreed and then they’d gone back to Tony’s to celebrate some more.

Now, Lee felt a fresh wave of fear sweep over him. Tony had been gone _so long_. “Thanks for _that_ memory,” he told the card and was just about to throw it away, when something caught his eye.

On the back, scrawled in Tony’s messy handwriting: _Jericho Beach Park. Tell Henry._

Lee stared at it. Then he sat up in a rush, card crushed in his fist. Jericho Beach. That was easily thirty kilometres from his apartment, probably better to take his car rather than his bike.

He shoved his feet into the first shoes he found, grabbed a jacket and his keys and was halfway out the door before guilt got the better of him.

_Tell Henry_ , Tony’s note said. He’d even underlined it. The subtext was definitely that Lee should tell Henry and then _leave it to_ Henry.

He wasn’t going to do that part, but he really should probably do the first part. As a compromise, he fired off a quick text, then shoved his phone into his pocket and jumped into the car.

***

Jericho Beach was cold in the middle of the night and creepy despite - or maybe because of - the moonlight filtering across the sand.

Lee had been fired up with excitement ever since he’d found the card, convinced that this was it, he was going to bring Tony home, but now that he was standing here, boots sinking into damp sand, he realised that he had no idea where to look.

“Tony!” he yelled, which probably wouldn’t help, but fuck it, it was worth a try. He’d been in high school theatre shows, he knew how to project his voice. He gave it his all, until his voice was echoing back at him.

Still nothing.

He dropped down onto his knees on the sand.

“Tony,” he said again, “Tony, _Tony_.” He missed him. They’d been together for three months, known each other only just over a year. He hadn’t told his family about Tony, had to plan dates in advance to keep them out of the press.

None of that mattered. None of that meant that he didn’t care. Finding Tony mattered more than anything else.

Under his hands, the sand began to shift. At first he thought it was just resettling, sliding down the little hills and valleys he’d created by disturbing it. But no, it was definitely moving. 

Lee rocked back onto his heels then sat down, watching as the sand rushed together, forming a long, straight line. 

Lee squinted at it. It was pointing up the beach. “Is that supposed to be an arrow?” he asked the universe.

The line wriggled impatiently. In fact, if a line could wriggle crossly, that’s what it did.

“O-okay,” Lee said, and stood up. As soon as he stepped forward, so did the line, inching its way through the sand, like a really demanding snake. It was leading him away from the water line, to the top of the beach.

At first, all Lee could see was vegetation and broken bits of boats and, of course, even more sand. Then a dilapidated hut-like shed came into view.

The line hopped happily.

Lee broke into a run.

He expected the door to be locked, and he didn’t have any intention of letting that stop him, but it gave away immediately under his shoulder, and sent him stumbling inside.

It was just one room, not all that big and covered in shrivelled vines and dead leaves. There was no sign of Tony, but the sand hadn’t decided to come to life by itself, so _something_ magic must be happening here.

He paced across the room to the window on the far side, and felt the floorboards give a little, just under his left foot, when he was halfway across the room.

They’d done this in an episode of _Darkest Night_. In that, James Taylor Grant had carefully felt around for the edges of the fake floorboard and discovered the staircase that was hidden underneath it.

Lee was cold and tired and heartsore and he didn’t have time for any of that.

He jumped.

He landed hard on both heels and the floor gave way under him.

He just about had time to decide that this might have been a terrible plan and then he was falling. He landed on a concrete floor with the sort of jolting crash that probably would have hurt - probably _did_ hurt - except that he wasn’t sparing any thought for that.

“Lee,” he heard, followed by a harsh groaning sound, followed by, “What the _fuck_?”

Lee sat up. 

Tony was lying in corner of the… whatever this was. It was probably a basement. Lee fucking hated basements. In the moonlight, he looked small and crumpled and in pain, his clothes were ripped, and he seemed to be tied to the wall by more of the vines that were all over the floor upstairs.

He was the most beautiful sight Lee had ever seen.

“Oh fuck, fuck, _Tony_ ,” Lee said and launched him across the room. He wanted to drag Tony into his arms, but he stopped himself. Instead, he put his hands on Tony’s shoulders and made himself look at him properly. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

Tony was staring back at him. “A… little,” he said. He seemed to be having trouble believing that Lee was in front of him.

“God,” Lee said and started running his hands over Tony’s body. His clothes were barely hanging off him, they had so many holes in them. “What _happened_?”

“If I told you murderous merpeople flooded my apartment and carried me away, would you believe me?” Tony asked. He tugged at the place where his wrists were tied, grunting in frustration. “Fuck, get my hands free? Please?”

Reluctantly abandoning his frantic check for grievous injuries, Lee knelt up and started ripping at the vines that held Tony in place. They were strong, sticky and solid and they did not want to give way, but Lee was angry and that won out.

As soon as Tony’s hands were free, they were on Lee, running over his face, his chest, his shoulders, pulling him in toward Tony.

“It’s okay, I’m here,” Lee said and finally let himself hug him. He pressed his face into Tony’s filthy hair, while Tony made fists in the back of his shirt.

“Are you wearing pyjamas?” Tony asked, still holding on.

Lee nodded. “Definitely possible. Shit, shit I was scared. Never do that again?”

“I didn’t mean to do it this time,” Tony said. Then, in a smaller voice, “I’m sorry.”

Lee kissed his hair once and then again and then again. He rubbed his hands over Tony’s back, pulling him closer. “No, don’t,” he said. “Just shh, it’s fine, you’re fine now, everything’s fine.”

They held onto each other for a long time. At the back of Lee’s mind, he was thinking about escape, but he was also thinking that he should tell Tony he loved him and that they should move in together. At the very least they should have keys to each other’s apartments.

Those was all things for another time. Right now, “Murderous merpeople?” Lee asked.

“Fuck them,” Tony muttered. “Is my apartment ruined? They _flooded it_.”

Lee thought back to the terrifyingly clean and spotless state that he’d found Tony’s apartment in. “No, it’s fine, they put it all back together. They made it _cleaner_.”

After a startled second, Tony laughed. He groaned, clutching at his ribs and at Lee, but he didn’t stop laughing. “Maybe they can teach me how to do the clean cantrip,” he said.

Lee kissed the top of his head, again. “Maybe.”

“Where’s Henry?” Tony asked. “Did you find the note? I said to tell Henry.”

“I texted him,” Lee said, trying to sound confidently assured that that was what Tony’s note had meant.

“Tell me you didn’t come here by yourself,” Tony said urgently.

Lee winced. “I would love to tell you that, I really would. I assuming lying would be bad for our relationship?”

“God, _Lee_ ,” Tony groaned. “You could have been killed. You still could be. We have to get out of here.”

He tried to get to his feet, but Lee stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “In a minute,” he said, curling his hand around the back of Tony’s neck.

“What are we waiting f-mph.” Tony kept trying to talk against Lee’s mouth for a couple of words then gave up and kissed back hard. His mouth tasted distinctly unpleasant, but Lee didn’t care, Lee could kiss him forever.

In fact, it was only the thought of murderous mermaids that got him to stop. “Okay,” he said, sitting back. “Now we can leave.”

Tony blinked repeatedly. “Oh, can we?” he asked, sounding a little dazed. He shook his head as though to clear it. “Right. Yes. Let’s go.”

It took some effort to get Tony to his feet and even more to get him up the makeshift wooden slope that the mermaids apparently used instead of crashing through the ceiling.

Every step made Tony grunt with pain. His teeth were clenched hard so the fact that he was letting any sounds out at all told Lee just how much pain he must be in.

“We can stop if you need a break,” Lee said, tightening his arm around Tony’s waist. 

“Nope, no,” Tony said, letting Lee take a little more of his weight. “I want to get out of here. I want a shower and a warm meal and a _bed_ and more of those kisses. We’re not stopping.”

So they didn’t stop. Lee was no fool. He wanted all those things too. If Tony wanted to keep going, so did he.

Half way up the beach, a car swept through the sand toward them, headlights blinding.

“Fuck,” Tony said, flinging up a hand to shield his eyes, while Lee twisted them both around, putting himself between Tony and the car. “Don’t do _that_ ,” Tony protested, but he was too weak to do anything about it.

“I don’t suppose merpeople drive cars?” Lee asked.

Tony leaned on him. “No clue. I want to say no, but who knows?”

“Tony!” came a woman’s voice from the car and Tony straightened up immediately.

“Holy cow, Vicki’s here?” he asked. He didn’t go running over to her, like Lee half expected, just carried on leaning into Lee’s chest, apparently content for them to come to him. “You’ve met her?”

“I met her,” Lee agreed. “And Mike Cellucci.”

“Wow, I am going to want to hear every word about that, later.” Tony turned quickly and kissed Lee on the mouth. Then he straightened up. 

He still looked like someone who’d been locked in a basement for a few days, but the sand rippled under his feet and Henry, Vicki and Mike stopped their headlong run toward him.

“We’ve got mermaid trouble,” he said and then he was off and rolling, every inch the wizard in charge.

Lee hung back. He was fully content to be nothing more than the boyfriend of the wizard who saved the world. Just as long as he got to save the wizard, every now and then.


End file.
